a/n: 5.3k oneshot. here's the deal

i was approached a couple of months ago to write a fic for someone's birthday, as a gift. as a result, this piece is very specific to that person. i changed the names and moved it into second person, but it's not what i typically post–i'm just posting it because i'm sure you guys would like to read it anyway. it's not very detailed because as it was written for a real person, i didn't want to invade their head like that. the smut is very glossed-over. but i put a lot of time into this, so here's something super random!! enjoy!!

"Nervous?"

Shawn looked up from his own hands, fiddling with the feather-shaped ring adorning his middle finger. He took a deep breath.

"Nerves mean you care," he answered with his classic line and a tight-lipped grin, nodding as he spoke. Cez huffed at him, wondering how on earth someone could maintain such composure at all times. Especially in the middle of headlining a sold-out world tour.

Shawn's gaze travelled out the window of the Uber, absorbing everything he could about the city he was in. That's the thing about touring, he thought to himself. While you see the world, you really don't.

He was sure San Diego was beautiful, but it was hard to get a good look at the buildings because the sidewalks were completely lined with people. Fans of his, in particular. A mass amount of bodies crowded the entrance to Pechanga Arena, waiting patiently for the doors to open.

Shawn's chocolate eyes scanned the herd of people as the car rolled along, clearly not fast enough for Cez's liking.

Something caught his eye. He wasn't sure if it was her long black hair or pearly white smile, but Shawn craned his neck quickly enough to give himself whiplash.

"Wait, ca-," he paused as his right hand tapped at the window frantically, "Can we turn around?"

"Shawn, we're already late," Cez pressed, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at Shawn's sudden outburst.

"No, bu-"

"Shawn," he spoke sternly. There was no getting out of this.

"Alright," Shawn breathed, sinking back into his seat. Whoever she was, she was fucking gorgeous. And she was there to see him. He could only hope to find her inside.

And hope he did. Shawn carried on with the rushed soundcheck followed by his Q&A session, analyzing the face of every fan looking back at him in a meek attempt to see her again. His heart raced and his features perked up as every dark-haired girl walked in for her meet and greet, only to once again be discouraged when he felt absolutely nothing.

The team knew something was up, failing to mention it in fear of Shawn being on the brink of a nervous episode. In reality, the reason he wasn't all there was due to his desperate search to find her.

_______________________

Shawn bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms as Eddie played the opening notes of Lost In Japan. The stage was dark as Shawn crept out, making the most of the twenty-one seconds he had to scan the crowd, praying to his lucky stars that his eyes might fall on her. His heart sank as he knew it was time to focus, to play the damn show because that was why people were there and that was why he was there. That was why she was there.

With a deep breath and a toothy grin, Shawn straightened out his shoulders and took the mic into his hand.

"San Diego how you feelin'?" escaped his lips as his hopes were crushed, accepting his fate. Sixteen-thousand pairs of eyes stared back at him, and he wondered which one of them belonged to her.

_______________________

"Fucking finally!" you exclaimed, finally ejecting yourself from the confines of Pearson International. Your best friend, Alex, trailed after you, wheeling her suitcase in the direction of the arrivals pickup.

Navigating airports wasn't always easy. Especially in foreign cities under a time-crunch and being completely engulfed by the looming excitement of Shawn's upcoming stadium show, which happened to be the next day.

The air was warmer than you'd expected and your surroundings were greyer than anyone would have liked to admit, but somehow, some way, Toronto was still beautiful. Except the airport wasn't even in Toronto. They could see it, way off in the distance, but Brampton, Ontario, definitely was not Toronto.

You were pulled from her thoughts when a black Chevrolet Equinox pulled over in front of you, popping the hatch for your luggage.

"Your chariot awaits," Alex giggled, nudging you in the side as she loaded your suitcases into the spacious trunk.

The Uber merged onto the 427 and made its way southward, barreling toward the city faster than your fragile heart could handle. The Toronto skyline was glowing at the sun set, the glint of the CN Tower proving hard to look at as the city you so badly longed to be in grew more and more in your reach.

A blaring car horn startled you, causing you to snap your head around at the source. The Uber was merging again, onto another highway, and had unfortunately just cut someone off.

You craned your neck in search of a sign, spotting "Gardiner Expressway" in gigantic letters attached to a light post. The crashing waves of Lake Ontario were to your right as the Uber took the exit reading "Lake Shore," you and Alex exchanging a look of pure joy.

Holy shit, these buildings are huge, you thought to yourself as the Uber rolled slowly through the thick traffic of the downtown core. The Rogers Centre was a massive white dome from another plane of existence, and stationed just behind it was the CN Tower, standing taller than either of you had ever envisioned.

Then the Uber took an aggressive left on Spadina and all the buildings looked the same and within minutes the vehicle was pulling over, announcing that you'd arrived.

"Alright," you giggled, wheeling your luggage into the lobby of the apartment complex. It seemed modern and posh, and thankfully, right in the middle of everything. Alex retrieved the key from the front desk and you tapped your toes anxiously against the floor, watching the little screen as the elevator climbed all the way to the fifteenth level.

The apartment was nice. Faced the east, providing a great view of the near skyline, and the bedroom was on the north wall. You looked out the window with fascination, watching as a green GO train chugged along on the tracks below.

"Hungry?" Alex called, pulling you from your thoughts. "Sorry, but all I can think about right now is food."

______________________

Night came and went, leaving you giddy with excitement, staring at your own reflection, satisfied with what you saw. The show was in a few hours and it would be your second time seeing Shawn on this tour, and you couldn't have been more ecstatic.

The Rogers Centre. The special guests. The extended show. The massive crowd. You knew it was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and it was all happening to you right here, right now.

You wondered what Shawn was doing, what he was thinking about. If he was nervous—hell, hownervous he was.

_______________________

Shawn's drive to the Rogers Centre was a quick one. That's new, he thought to himself. His phone had been blowing up all morning, text messages from distant friends and family rolling in like clockwork. It was a big fucking deal.

Shawn was busy thinking about her. Playing a show for 55,000 people had Shawn all in his head—what didn't?—and he found tranquility in thoughts of what could have been. He wondered if he should tweet something. Or relocate to San Diego for a while and maybe hang out at a Walmart. She was bound to pass by at some point.

But no. It had been two months—two whole months—since he'd seen her. He didn't know why he as so drawn to her, so captivated by her. But he felt something that day. There was no doubt about it. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try and find her.

Today wasn't the day, though. He was about to play the biggest show of his career, and if he was being honest with himself, he was freaking the fuck out. He breathed in. Her. He breathed out. Her. He was calm.

"Gates six or ten," Alex read off the e-ticket, causing you to whip your head around in search of some sort of fucking sign. For such a big building, one would think it would be at least labeled.

The CN Tower quite literally towered over you as the two of you followed a mob of people to the doors, holding hands in fear of losing each other in the crowd. You thought back to lining up outside of the arena in San Diego and laughed to yourself. This was nothing like that.

"Six it is," you spoke, nodding to the circular sign above the doors everyone was crowding around. The group was buzzing with murmurs of where everyone was sitting, many "you're lucky"'s exchanged whenever someone revealed that they were in an "A" section. Alex shot you a tight-lipped grin, both of you thinking the same thing: we're in A4.

The sun was low and 7:30 was quickly approaching, the anticipation building as everyone prepared for the doors to open.

"These seats are incredible," you thought aloud, settling next to the aisle with your vodka cran.

"Yeah, you'll finally be able to see the sweat dripping down his neck," Alex quipped, earning a nudge in the ribs from you.

Shawn, on the other hand, was not so easygoing.

He was freaking the fuck out.

Backstage was chaos, everyone trying to get sorted at the last-minute. All the people Shawn loved were under the same roof, but still, he wasn't at peace. He considered he'd probably retreat to his ancient calming tactics, focusing on one audience member and freaking them out with a lot of eye contact. It worked every time.

Your stomach twirled as you got to your feet. The lights were low, the bass was rumbling, and something was about to happen. You felt as if you might burst.

Shawn's stomach twirled as he stood at the side of the stage. The lights were low, the bass was rumbling, and he was about to step out there. He was ready to burst.

And just like that, he kicked off the biggest show of his career. Lost In Japan went harder than ever and he was over the moon, singing to and with fifty five thousand people who loved him endlessly.

______________________

He took a deep breath. It was mid-show, he hadn't introduced the special guests, and he jumped down from the stage and held his arms out to touch people's hands as security escorted him to the b-stage, where a grand piano waited patiently.

"Holy shit, he's right there!" Alex screamed in your ear, her senses overwhelmed by her emotions. Shawn spoke a few words that you didn't quite catch as he sat down on the bench, the chords to Life of the Party causing the crowd to erupt. You were positive that you weren't alone in trying not to cry.

A few songs later and he was wrapping up the segment, performing an elongated version of a fan favourite: Ruin. The band was on the main stage and Shawn stood alone, absolutely nailing the guitar solo. Accomplished, he looked up from his guitar, bidding sweat away from his eyes. He blinked. And then he blinked again. No fucking way.

He missed his cue and messed up the song a bit, but he wasn't too worried. Squinting into the audience as the spotlight illuminated the sections surrounding him, he was sure of it. It was her.

"Is he okay?" Alex wondered out loud, her voice insignificant in your ear. You weren't listening.

He was looking at you. You turned your head around, wondering what the big deal was, to find thousands of people, too, looking at you.

Shawn knew this couldn't last long. He was being obvious.

He wrapped up the song, hardly peeling his eyes from you because how could he? Like, seriously. What were the fucking odds?

Shawn ran back to the main stage and just like that, he was gone. You checked your phone. 9:30. There was no way it was over.

Shawn dove off the stage, frantically searching for Andrew.

"The hell was that?" Andrew asked sternly, finally locating Shawn.

"Listen, that girl? Not the middle section, two over to my right? Dark hair, on the aisle," Shawn panted, everyone around him staring at him in confusion. "Look."

Shawn pulled Andrew to the edge of the stage where he couldn't be seen very well, pointing directly at her spot.

"The girl from the San Diego show, she's here."

"That's her?" Andrew questioned, "how the fuck did you see her?"

"Lucky? I don't know," Shawn spoke quickly, "but I need someone to go get her. I need to talk to her."

"Shawn we can't jus-"

"See you after!" he called with a grin, stepping back onto the stage to introduce the one and only Taylor Swift.

You were baffled. Wondering if you'd done something wrong, confused as to why the Shawn Mendes was looking at you as if you had two heads.

There wasn't much you could do. Yes, Shawn kept looking. Staring, really. But you had no choice but to smile back and enjoy the show, oddly confident and confused and insecure all at once.

Taylor left and Ed came out, the crowd absolutely losing their minds. Shawn was at his peak happiness, a little anxious about what would happen later but very, very in the zone.

You were having the time of your life, too. You could sense the show coming to an end as he played the opening notes of In My Blood, giving it his absolute all for every single person who made it to the concert.

Shawn thanked the crowd endlessly. He waved goodbye. The lights came on and everyone started filing out, but you were intercepted.

A massive man in a black hoodie stopped you in your tracks, and you soon recognized him to be Jake, Shawn's security guard. You took a deep breath.

"I'm with Shawn," he spoke, flashing you a backstage pass, "would you mind coming with me for a few minutes? Your friend is welcome to join."

You turned to look at Alex, who was already raising a brow. If you hadn't recognized Jake you'd be suspicious, but this seemed legitimate.

"Y-yeah," you nodded, agreeing to follow Jake to the side of the stage and eventually around the back, down a long hallway, and to the dressing rooms.

"He's just winding down for a minute with his team," Jake spoke, opening the door to a furnished dressing room. "Are you okay to wait in here for a bit?"

You looked over at Alex, who gave you an understanding nod. Of course you were okay to wait a bit.

Jake left quietly and you were too jittery to sit on the plush sofa. Alex, on the other hand, plunked down like a sack of potatoes.

"How are you calm right now?" you asked frantically, chewing your nail.

"Nothing bad's gonna happen," she chuckled, "clearly Shawn's got something to say to you."

That did not help. Your hands were shaking and you were pacing, soon locating a mirror and making sure you looked okay. Of course this was when the door burst open.

You turned toward the sudden commotion, face-to-face with a very sweaty, very flushed Shawn Mendes.

Silence.

You bit your lip. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Shawn was the first to speak.

"Hi," he said quietly, trying his best to suppress a bashful grin.

"Um, hello," you giggled, holding out your right hand and introducing yourself.

"I'm, uh, I'm Shawn," he laughed, a chuckle escaping Alex's lips a few feet away.

"That's my friend Alex," you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest.

Shawn shot her a nod, more concerned with you. Why was she here? How did she get here? Where did she come from?

"Oh," Shawn raised his eyebrows, "you're probably wondering what you're doing here."

You laughed, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. He could listen to that forever.

"This is going to sound really weird, but please, bear with me," he grinned, taking a step closer. "I recognized you from the San Diego show."

Your eyebrows lunged into your hairline.

"You're kidding."

"Dead serious," he nodded.

"How'd you see me there?" you asked, unsure of if you should laugh or be worried, "I wasn't even on the floor."

"I looked for you," he twirled his ring around his finger, probably nervous, "I saw you lining up outside, actually. When I was on my way to the venue."

"Right," you said quietly, still baffled by all of this.

"I just, I felt like I needed to talk to you?" he explained, his tone uneasy, "There's something about you, I can't quite put my finger on it. You're um, you're gorgeous."

Your cheeks burned crimson as your spoke a soft "thank you," desperately waiting for him to continue.

"I don't know where I'm really going with this," he paused, bringing a large hand up to run through his dark curls. "I have to go to this afterparty thing for a little bit, but maybe do you want to meet with me later? We could grab a drink or, or something?"

Was this fucking real? you thought to yourself. Of course. Fuck. Speak. Speak!

"Yeah, I do. That would be really nice," you played it cool, finally really looking into his eyes. They were beautiful.

"Great. Uh, can I maybe get your number?"

_______________________

Back at the apartment, you were having a royal meltdown.

"I didn't pack for this!" you called from the bedroom, pulling various pieces of clothing from your luggage to figure out what on earth to wear.

"He remembered you from a different fucking country," Alex quipped from the doorway, watching as you scrubbed the makeup from your face to reapply it. "I don't think he'd care if you showed up in a paper bag."

"Not gonna happen," you responded, having given up on the attire situation for the time being.

A few blocks over, Shawn was celebrating with his loved ones, over the fucking moon because thanks to some twist of fate, he'd finally found you. The party was set to end soon and you'd be meeting him at a quaint little dive bar just down the street from his house, and the seconds couldn't have ticked by faster.

"My Uber's almost here," you snapped, your long-sleeve shirt halfway over your head. "How do I look?"

"You look gorgeous," Alex spoke from the couch, giving you a one-over as you put your high-heeled boots on.

"Thank you," you breathed, slinging your purse over one shoulder. "Alright. I'm off."

And with that, you were gone. Practically shaking the entire car ride to the address Shawn had texted you, wondering if he was feeling the same.

Shawn stood on the sidewalk beneath the lights strung all over the front patio, his eyes fixed on every car that slowed down in front of him. His nerves were getting the best of him, but he had no choice. This was it. He'd been thinking about you for so long, wondering everything there was to know about you. Holy shit, there she is.

You climbed out of the back seat, thanking the driver and shutting the door behind you. You looked up, your gaze met by that of a tall, handsome, curly-haired young man. His smile reached his eyes.

"Hey!" he grinned, holding out his arm for you to grab. You needed steadying.

"Hi," you smiled, her heart jumping a bit as he pulled you in for an unexpected hug.

"Shall we go in?"

__________________________

He told you everything. When he saw you, where he saw you, how he felt when he saw you. Everything. And you were absolutely fucked for him.

"That's insane," you nodded, sipping your second cocktail. "Like, what are the odds?"

"That's what I'm saying!" he laughed, finishing off his IPA. "I don't know. I just, I think you're gorgeous. And I want to know more about you in the least creepy way possible."

"I'm not creeped out," you blushed, your hand finding his thigh in the dim light of the bar. He twitched a bit. You pulled away, embarrassed by your actions, eyeing him apologetically.

"No, no, that's fine!" Shawn reassured, reaching for your fingers and placing them back on his knee. "I just wasn't sure you were all that into me, I guess. Now I realize that's kind of stupid."

"I mean, I did travel to a whole other country just to see you perform, so," you chuckled, wiggling your fingers against the denim of his black jeans.

He nodded, flushed. They were acting like teenagers. You eyed his lips. He put his hand on yours and leaned in, brushing your nose with his own. All they could breathe was each other.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, his soft lips turning up at the corners.

"It's very okay," you nodded with a smile, closing the space between you to press your mouth against his.

He tasted like mint and honey, warm and cool and sweet all at once. You were itching for more, desperate to have his hands on you when he pulled away, smiling like a goof.

"Um," he started, giving your hand a squeeze, "do you, maybe, want to get out of here?"

_______________________

"Condo looks nice," you muttered against his lips, your body pinned against the back of his front door. His lips were everywhere at once, trailing from your lips to your jaw to her neck, begging for mutual attention.

"Thanks," he muttered with a giggle, carefully holding your face in his hands like you might break. He was afraid he would.

"Wow," you broke from his lips, craning your neck down the hall. His view of the city was gorgeous and his living room was so cozy, you had to take a minute. "This is really nice. Thank you, for uh, for bringing me here."

Shawn cleared his throat, joining you in his living room. The wonder in her eyes was electric as you gazed out the window. He was in awe.

"Listen," he spoke softly, reaching for your hand so you would turn to him, "I didn't just bring you here to, uh, you know," he took a deep breath, "I actually like you. A lot. We can do whatever you want, I'd still be over the fucking moon."

You were the hungry one now. If you weren't already destroyed by the thought of him, his words had you hooked. Shawn kissed you back, allowing your lips to swallow his gentle mewls as he walked you to his bedroom, trying his best not to fall over.

You didn't even have time to take in your surroundings, the brute force of Shawn's body on top of yours as you collapsed on his king-sized bed, knocking the wind out of you. You both broke into a small giggling fit, easing the nerves that seemed to be eating at his stomach from the inside out.

"You're sure this is okay?" he whispered, fingertips grazing the skin under your shirt.

"More than okay," you smiled, assisting him in slipping the fabric over her head.

He was blushing more than ever, giddy and elated that this was real life and really happening in real time. Someone controlling the universe and all mystery greater than life itself had his back. He made a note to say thank-you later.

Before his thoughts strayed too far from the woman beneath him, you were kissing his neck, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, reminding him of what really mattered.

Holy fuck, you thought to yourself. You knew he was ripped—had inspected every inch of his body through the screen of your phone. But you didn't know he looked like this. You swallowed your filthy thoughts with a gulp, your gaze raking over the dips and hills of his muscular torso, wondering what on earth was beneath his jeans.

As if he'd read your mind, he was messing with his belt, finally unclasping it and moving on to the button of his pants.

Your heart was racing.

His heart was racing.

It was happening quickly, but it made sense. You both wanted—needed—this, and it seemed fitting.

You wiggled out of the tight confinement of your jeans, matching his minimal attire of mere undergarments. His flush reached his chest, which was littered in tiny brown hairs, topped off with a dangling silver pendant.

This is real. This is Shawn Mendes. You took a deep breath.

His warm hands were on you, exploring the expanse of your ribs as he kissed you with all he had, teeth and tongue included. He needed you badly, and he wasn't afraid to show it.

You let out a squeal as he began nipping at your jaw, reminding you of how real this was. Your hands were exploring the divots of his stomach, feeling the softness and warmth of his skin against yours. He felt amazing.

He inhaled sharply, collapsing against you when your fingertips slipped into the waistband of his black boxers. Your hands were where he needed you most, feeling and rubbing and massaging everything he had to offer. He was ecstatic.

"Fuck," he muttered as you spread the bead of precum he'd released around the head of his cock, prompting him to buck his hips into your hand with great desperation. Shawn wasn't a selfish man, but he had a hard time focusing on putting his hands in your panties when you were touching him like this. "Wait a sec," he interrupted, shame washing over your face instantly. You were afraid you'd gone too far.

"I'm never gonna last past your hand," he breathed, his chocolate eyes pleading with yours as you retracted her fingers from his underwear. "Please, please let me focus on you."

No protest there. Your panties were off and he was between your thighs before either of you could take a breath, and holy fuck, he knew what he was doing.

His tongue was hot against your core, kissing and licking and lapping at the soft skin like it was his final meal. You squirmed beneath his gigantic arms, pinned to his bed and thankful because there was nowhere in the world you'd rather have been.

"Shawn," spilled from your lips, a mantra you'd practiced over and over in the comfort of your own bedroom, completely mind-boggled that you were using it for real now. "Fuck," you reiterated, gasping as he added a finger into the mix, working you to the edge faster than you'd ever experienced.

He was humming against you. Sucking on your clit like a fucking popsicle, grinding his hips into the mattress in preparation to give you all of him. He'd never felt so fucking alive.

Another finger slipped into your heat, Shawn coming up for air to plant some kisses on your inner thighs.

"Gonna come for me?" he groaned against your skin, fucking you roughly with his fingers as you struggled to formulate a sentence. "Need you to fucking come for me."

His mouth was back on you, exploring you thoroughly and sloppily, leaving you a shaking, shivering, writhing mess. He sucked, you shouted, and you were coming on his hands, clenching around his fingers like if you didn't, he might not have been real.

Shawn was smiling against your skin, proud of himself and proud to be between your thighs. You were panting, rapidly trying to regenerate because you wanted nothing more than to take all of him as soon as possible—to give him what he needed.

"Shawn, that was amazing," you muttered with a grin, pulling his face up to meet yours and tasting yourself on his glorious tongue, "Need you."

He separated himself from your lips, nudging your nose with his own and resting his forehead against yours.

"You're positive? This is okay?"

"Yes," you giggled, rolling your hips against his, "please, Shawn. Need you to fucking give it to me."

He was off you in milliseconds, rummaging in his bedside table for a condom and wiggling out of his boxer-briefs like they were burning his skin. You pushed up on your elbows, watching with a lazy smile as he fumbled with the latex, not-very-gracefully rolling it down his thick shaft and once again turning to face you.

Sculpted by the gods, he stood at the edge of the bed, throbbing cock in his hand. You reached around and unclasped your bra, Shawn unable to peel his eyes from your exposed chest as he crawled up your frame, kissing his way over your torso and up your neck, eventually finding your lips in the dim light of his bedroom.

He breathed in.

"You ready?"

You nodded.

He breathed out. This was it.

"Shit, baby," he muttered, running his reddish tip along your folds, "you're soaked."

"Obviously," you giggled, recounting the events of only a few minutes prior.

"I'll be gentle, I promise," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your lips as he slipped inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your soft walls hugging him so tightly.

The burn was quick, soon subsiding to pleasure as he bottomed out, beginning to carefully move in and out of your core. He was the perfect size—not too big, not too thick, but definitely not small. His shallow thrusts turned into deep rows, pounding into your heat as he lost himself in the pleasure your body provided.

He was moaning into the crook of your neck, sweat pooling in his hairline as he gave you all of him, focusing completely on grazing your walls as deeply as he could.

"Shawn," you panted, nails digging into his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer, "touch me."

His fingers found your clit and he sped up, reducing you to a mumbling string of profanities, feeling nothing but ecstasy as he was inside of you, working wonders with his cock and his fingers.

"M'not gonna last much longer," he warned, trying to slow down in a poor attempt to keep himself from barreling over the edge.

"Harder," you encouraged, closing your eyes and tugging his curls, lost in the feeling of the drag of his cock as his fingers danced over your sensitivity, bringing on your orgasm more intensely than you knew possible.

"Shit," he grunted, moaning with you as you clenched around him, your back arching against his mattress as you came together, seeing nothing but stars.

"Please stay," he spoke into your hair, hugging you tightly beneath his heavy duvet.

"I can't, Shawn," you nuzzled into his chest, "Alex is waiting for me."

He hummed in protest, groaning as you slipped out from under the covers and began relocating your clothes.

"It's too cold for you to leave."

"Shawn, it's September," you giggled, tugging your lacy underwear up your thighs. He watched.

"At least let my pay for your Uber."

"That I can do," you grinned, slipping your shirt over your head as he unlocked his iPhone and ordered a ride. "Walk me out?"

He got dressed (half, really), and walked you to the elevator, holding your hand so tightly it was almost painful. Neither of you knew why this felt so hard.

"It's two minutes away," he whispered, pulling you against his dense frame for a long hug, topping it off with a soft kiss to your swollen lips. "You have my number."

You nodded, stepping into the elevator, his hand still in yours as long as the doors remained open.

"Catch you next time you're passing through San Diego, I guess?"

He grinned bashfully, a flush creeping down his neck as the metal doors began to shut.

"I think you'll be seeing me a lot sooner than that, sweetheart."